


Beginnings to Ends

by zombs



Series: Zombs!Verse [2]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-03-09
Updated: 2021-03-09
Packaged: 2021-03-15 12:14:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 12,741
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29933253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zombs/pseuds/zombs
Summary: It all began with an experiment gone awry, and ended with a bang. For Jonathan Crane, it was only an anomaly; for Edward Nigma it was the opening to a whole new world. This is a collection of related drabbles exploring the budding relationship of Riddler and Scarecrow. This is not based on any specific versions of the characters, and the storyline is my (relatively dark) take on the characters, their interactions, and development over time.
Relationships: Jonathan Crane/Edward Nygma, Nina Damfino/Edward Nygma/Diedre Vance
Series: Zombs!Verse [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2201364
Kudos: 3





	1. Introductions

Jonathan sat in his car and watched the street corner with mild interest, scanning for his next target… His next victim. This was a new part of town he hadn’t fully explored yet, but his experience in finding new subjects here thus far had been positive. So many street rats to choose from, and so willing to climb into a stranger’s vehicle for nothing more than a flash of cash, or promise of drugs. He shifted in the worn fabric seats of his musty sedan, leaning his head against the window to watch the escorts giggle and flaunt themselves. Jonathan scanned the faces, checking each for the perfect target. Bruises, unkempt appearances, anything that told him that their disappearance would be expected.

A light rapping on the passenger side window startled Jonathan out of his thoughts. He sat up and turned his attention to the young boy peering through his hazy window. He hesitated as the thought of driving away and trying elsewhere crossed his mind, but curiosity got the better of him. He leaned over to roll the window down, as the boy flashed a lopsided smile.

“First time, huh? You know you actually have to go up to them and talk to them so they know you’re interested, right?” the boy started, resting his arms on the frame of the car window. His eyes searched Jon’s, then glanced around his car. “You swing my way?” Jonathan pondered the question for a moment, taking the time to size the young man before him. He was in his early twenties at the latest, but his body was lean with no defined muscle… easy to subdue. His mischievous blue eyes peered out from messy red bangs covering his freckled cheeks. Though he was clean and well-groomed, Jonathan noticed the jaundiced outline of a healing bruise just beneath his left eye.

“Are you working for someone?” Jonathan finally replied.

“Just myself.”

The bruise was not the sign of a possessive pimp then, but one perhaps of someone who already did not miss the boy. Without a word, Jonathan leaned over and opened the door. The boy stepped back then slipped into the car, closing the door behind him. He fastened his seatbelt and looked Jon up and down. “So where to?”

—–

As the car pulled into the warehouse district, Jonathan could tell his boy was antsy. He had been fidgeting nervously with a loose string at the bottom of his sleeve. The car ride had started out well enough, until the boy’s incessant chatting had worn Jonathan’s nerves thin, and Jonathan had snapped at him to shut up. The boy had kept his head down for the remainder of the ride, stealing brief glances at the surroundings outside the car, and an occasional peek at Jonathon.

Jonathan opened his door, feeling the boys eyes follow him closely. He stepped over to the passenger side of the door and opened it, stretching a boney hand out to the boy. The boy slowly crawled out of the car, avoiding the outstretched hand. There was a pause before the boy tried to make a break for it; Jonathan’s arm caught him in the stomach and wrapped around him tightly. The redhead squirmed and writhed, grunting as Jonathan pulled him close and smothered him in a drugged rag. He could feel the boy hold his breath as he continued to fight, kicking Jonathan in his knee and scratching at his arms. After a few minutes of struggling, he felt the young man’s chest expand as he gasped for breath. A few moments later, the rigid body in Jonathan’s arms slowly loosened.

He laid the boy gently on the ground and closed the car door. He returned to the boy and looked down at him curiously. He was handsome, despite the mussed hair from their struggle. Jonathan quickly pushed the thought aside as he hoisted the boy over his shoulder and took him inside.

——-

When the boy had been secured, tied tightly to the medical chair in his lab, Jonathan sat down at his desk to finish his work until the boy stirred. It wasn’t long before he heard a small groan from the chair behind him, and Jonathan couldn’t help but feel the slight tug of a smile at the corner of his lips. He turned in his chair to see the boy slowly coming to, slowly coming to the realization of how dire his situation was.

Jonathan stiffly rose from his chair, his knee throbbing from the earlier altercation. He grabbed a notepad and pen before approaching the boy. He gently took the boys chin in his hand and lifted his head to look at him. “

No more nonsense,” Jonathan whispered to the boy. “There is no escape, so just relax.” He let the boy’s head fall and placed his fingers over his bound wrist to find his pulse.

“How old are you?”

“Why does that matter?” the boy mumbled, barely coherent.

“I don’t like asking twice. How old are you?” There was a hesitation followed by a resigned sigh.

“It’s rude to ask an escort’s age, you kno–” A swift slap across the face whipped the boys head to the side. Silence hung in the air, broken a few seconds later by a soft response, “I’m nineteen.”

“I’m guessing you’re around 5 foot 7, is that correct?” Jonathan continued, scribbling notes on his pad. “ One hundred thirty pounds?” The boy kept his eyes to the ground, staying silent. “Boy?”

“Aren’t you even going to ask me my name?” The boy replied, looking up at him with a freshly tender cheek.

“Your name is irrelevant to me,” Jonathan said coolly, his southern accent drawling over the words.

“It’s pretty cold to tie up and beat your lay without even knowing his name…”

Jonathan sighed and grabbed his mask from his desk and tossed it in front of the boy. There was a brief pause, followed by a resigned “Fuck.” Everyone in the city knew that mask, and Jonathan knew that the boy now understood. The boy knew exactly what he was in for.

“I’m assuming the measurements I have are correct. You should tell me if they aren’t. It will be much easier for both of us if I have the correct dosage.” Again Jonathan was met with silence, which he simply ignored. “I can’t promise a quick or easy death once we’re through– you understand, I have to get as much use out of you as I can– but I can promise you that your body is respected and laid to rest… Appropriately.”

Jonathan’s voice hung thick in the air as he prepped the needle. The boy kept his head hung, and Jonathan knew he was trying to keep up the facade of bravery, staying stoic through the end. But Jonathan also knew that courage would quickly melt with the small pinch of a syringe in the boys arm. Jonathan paused as he heard the soft sniffles as the boy tried to stifle his crying.

He returned to the boy with an empty syringe and slid the needle into his arm, drawing blood from his veins. “ You needn’t cry, child. Death will be a welcome end.” He leaned down and breathed into the boys ear, “Nothing lasts forever.”

“I… I can help you,” the boy sputtered. “Please, I’m incredibly intelligent, I can invent things for you, I– I–” Jonathan chuckled and brushed the boys bangs back.

“If you were as smart as you say you are, you wouldn’t be here.” Jonathan stood tall and transferred the freshly drawn blood into a vial. He picked up his syringe and stepped behind the boy, sliding the needle across his skin. “Is death what you fear the most? Or is it everything up to the death that scares you more?”

The boy shivered in his seat, and Jonathan grinned. “I’ll let you think on that… Stew in it.. for a few more moments…” Jonathan stood and placed the syringe on his desk and picked up the scalpel before leaving the room. He needed to step away from the situation, let his excitement settle so that everything happened slowly and methodically. It was much more fun to play with the prey when it was lucid.

He stepped out into the cold fall night and took a long drag from a cigarette. Jonathan never liked to dwell on the victims, who they were or what they had been… But for some reason now, thoughts of the boy swirled in his head… There was something in him… Some… intelligence in his eyes. Something unlike anything he’d seen before, and something… Deeper. Something that made Jonathan feel that the boy was playing a game with him… that he wasn’t really in control.

Something felt off. Something felt off about the way the boy had been watching where he was driving… how he started crying and begging, as if on some cue. As if the boy knew something Jonathan didn’t. He flicked his cigarette to the ground and smothered it with his boot. He needed to look at the boy again, look into his eyes and understand.

But the boy was gone. In his place, a smashed glass syringe lay on the floor beside roughly cut rope. And on the chair, a simple gift, a card.

Jonathan picked the card up and mused over the gaudy question mark insignia. Beneath it were two words. Two words that answered the question he hadn’t asked: “Edward Nigma”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw for blood and fear toxin-induced suicide attempt

It was late when Jonathan returned to his hideout, he tiredly pulled the sweaty burlap off his head and lazily tossed it on his desk. He ran his long boney fingers through his hair, combing through the sticky clumps of strands as his other hand busied itself with untying the knotted rope around his neck.

Tossing the rope onto the mask, Jon flicked on the light and released a worn, frustrated sigh. On his desk was the brat’s calling card, no doubt with some snarky note scribbled on the other side. Jon walked over to his desk and picked up the glittery green card, rolling his eyes. He didn’t know why the boy had taken to harassing him and him alone, but one of these days, Jon kept promising himself, he’d make Edward regret his indiscretions.

But tonight was not the night, as Jonathan was weary and wanted nothing more than his bed. Before that, though, he’d need to take inventory of his stock. Jon had noticed early in their cat-and-mouse games that the younger man’s hands were rarely idle; sedatives and other highly profitable drugs often went missing after his visits. Whether Edward was selling or using, Jonathan couldn’t be sure, but sometimes the newest rogue’s pupils were a little too large, and his smile just a little too goofy. Jonathan had no interest in prying.

Jon’s eyes scanned his workspace half-heartedly, looking for anything out of place. He paused as he remembered a recent job he had been working– lacing a politician’s medicine with fear toxin. He wandered over to his desk to find the prescription bottle he had been filling, scowling when he found it to be missing.

If Edward was indeed using, the man was in for an unpleasant trip. Something twinged in Jonathan’s stomach, and he tried to suppress it. But the nagging continued, and after a few moments he relented. With another deep sigh, he headed for the front door, grabbing his coat as he left the promise of a good night’s sleep.

————-

Edward didn’t answer the door when Jonathan knocked. Whether that was normal or not, Jonathan could not say. He didn’t usually enter through the front door, and his visits were not normally… Of this nature. Jonathan hesitated for a moment, questioning what he was doing here so late at night, without a real plan or reason.

But the twinges in Jonathan’s stomach continued, and despite his better judgement, he opted for his normal route: the window in Edward’s study. A strange thing about that window, the latch had long been broken and Jonathan always used it to get into Edward’s hideout. Why the younger man’s didn’t just replace the latch was beyond him, but Jonathan would not dwell on that.

Upon entering the study, Jon’s suspicions were immediately confirmed. The room, normally clean, organized, and sterile, was a mess of papers and furniture strewn across the floor. An empty prescription pill bottle resting against the leg of Edward’s desk caught Jon’s eye as he crept through the window.

He knelt down to pick it up and scowled– this was definitely his, and when he had last seen it, it had been halfway full. The pills had been laced appropriately to cause paranoia and anxiety for each dose, which meant the self-described genius had given himself a full dose of hellish nightmares by taking all the pills at once.

“Perhaps this will be enough to dissuade him of this nasty habit,” Jonathon muttered aloud, with an irritated click of his tongue. He stood and placed the plastic bottle on the desk, then continued through the house to look for Edward.

Jonathan finally found Edward in the bedroom, huddled tightly in a corner between bookshelves. His knees were drawn to his chest and his glassy blue eyes stared dazedly over tear stained, freckled cheeks. Jonathan felt the twinge in his stomach turn into a rolling nausea, forcing him to swallow thickly. His mind raced as he looked at the younger man. This… this is what Jonathan had wanted. All the cat-and-mouse games, the close calls, the brushes of his needle against that flushed freckled skin….and yet something about this moment felt very wrong. The thrill of adrenaline watching another person writhing in fear was replaced with an anxiety that Jonathan could not explain… could not rationalize. 

Pushing the thoughts and nausea aside, Jonathan approached Eddie slowly and knelt in front of him, examining the boy from a few feet away.

Eddie didn’t move or acknowledge Jon, but fresh tears welled in his eyes and a few rolled down dried tracks on his cheeks. Jon noticed blood on the floor and Eddie’s hand, and a knife by his side. A large cut on his palm suggested that Eddie had grabbed the knife in a flurry of fear, accidentally grabbing it by the blade instead of the handle. It was nothing a few stitches couldn’t fix, but it did need to be dressed.

Carefully and gently, Jonathan reached for the knife. Instantly, Eddie sprung to life and grabbed the weapon with his injured hand–this time holding it properly– and wielded it defensively. Blood oozed from his palm onto the handle of the knife, dropping to the floor with a soft plat.

“D-don’t come near me…” Eddie warned, though his eyes were fixed on something beyond Jon, something only his fear toxin-addled mind could see. Jonathan drew his hand back and raised them both, palms facing the younger man to show him he was not a threat.

“Put the knife down, Edward… I am here to help you.” The words came without thought, and Jonathan could hardly understand why he said them, but he knew he meant them.

Eddie bared his teeth as fresh tears slid down his face. He pointed the knife shakily at Jon, and his eyes shifted to him.

“I won’t let you do this to me again… Not any more. ” Eddie replied through gritted teeth, his voice cracking sharply. “Don’t come near me… I’m warning you..” Jonathan shifted his weight as his tired joints screamed at him. He sighed as he watched Eddie and thought longingly about the bed that awaited him at home. He needed to get the knife away from Eddie, and take him back to his own hideout to keep him safe.

Eddie, though lean and relatively strong, was not a fighter. His main strength rested in his head, beneath the tousled red hair and his freckled skin. But in this state, his mind was not a weapon worth fearing. If Jonathan could wrangle the knife from his hand, he would be easily able to subdue Eddie long enough to take him somewhere safe. But the knife would be an issue. Jonathan watched Eddie’s hand shake unsteadily and again reached for the knife– if he could only pull it gently from the younger man’s grip–

In a flash of movement much quicker than Jonathan thought Eddie capable of, the younger man scrambled to his feet, backing himself further into the corner. 

“No!” Eddie cried, his breathing hitched as he stared wide-eyed at Jon. “I can’t… I won’t do this any more… I won’t let you hurt me.” The younger man’s voice was raspy and scattered, stumbling over his words. “I won’t… not any more…” Jon watched silently as Eddie turned the knife on himself, raising it to his own neck.

Jonathan’s reaction was fast, but not quite quick enough. As the blade met flesh, he lunged at Eddie, tackling him to the ground. After a scuffle between the men, Jon was able to knock the knife out of Eddie’s hand and pin the boy to the ground by his wrists, wincing as Eddie’s shrill screams filled the room. The screams, though piercing, were a form of relief; the knife hadn’t slid far enough across his neck to damage his trachea, which meant the injury likely wasn’t life-threatening. However, Jonathan needed a better look to be sure he hadn’t hit an artery. The boy thrashed beneath him, blood spilling onto the floor as he struggled against Jon’s firm grasp.

Restraining both of Eddie’s wrists with one hand, Jon reached his other hand into his satchel. A brief sens of relief flitted across his mind as his fingers wrapped around a glass vial of liquid sedative. He was lucky he hadn’t bothered to change out of his scarecrow outfit. 

Jonathan retrieved a small syringe from his belt and with one hand withdrew an approximate dosage– he had to guess, and would deal with any unintended consequences later. With ease, Jon slipped the needle into Eddie’s arm and injected the sedative, ignoring his wailing of complaints.

Eddie’s resistance slowly weakened as the boy lost consciousness. Jonathan released him and immediately focused his attention on the gushing wound in Eddie’s neck. Jonathan looked it over quickly, relieved to find that the blade had narrowly missed the artery. Methodically, Jonathan tore a rag from his tattered clothes and wrapped Eddie’s neck with a tourniquet to stem the bleeding.

Jon took a moment to look down at himself, covered in blood and exhausted. He looked back at the now-comatose boy and let out an exasperated huff. The nausea in his stomach came back as he saw the boy’s blue eyes staring back at him blankly beneath a coating of spattered blood. Jonathan passed his hand over Eddie’s face, his spindly crooked fingers closing the boy’s eyelids. In a slow, stiff motion, Jonathan scooped Eddie up in his arms and held the redheads body against his chest. He had a long night ahead of him, and it would be one spent more comfortably at home. Eddie was coming with him.


	3. Chapter 3

It had been a long night, and Jonathan was exhausted. He still hadn’t changed from the night before, and his clothes were stiff with Eddie’s dried blood. The rancid smell of his blood filled the room, and Jonathan knew it would linger for several days after the younger man was gone. His attention turned to the boy and sighed. Eddie. Edward Nigma. The man who now occupied Jon’s bed, whose neck and hand had been stitched and bandaged. The man who, just the night before, had tried to take his own life in a fear toxin-induced terror.

It was something that Jon had been thinking about all night. The defiance in the younger man’s voice as he chose death over an unseen shadow, as he made the calculated decision that the unknown of death was preferable to the known horrors he faced. Jon let his morbid mind wander over the possibilities. What could have so deeply scarred Eddie to make him choose death? …what was the boy running from?

Lost in his thoughts, Jon slowly and stiffly lifted himself out of the old wooden chair beside the bed His joints ached and screamed at him as he leaned over the sleeping Eddie and placed a hand on the younger man’s forehead. His temperature was still slightly elevated, but had lowered substantially since the night before. As he withdrew his hand, Eddie stirred, letting out a soft moan. Jon’s eyes fell on the boy’s cheeks, soft and youthful; it was a stark contrast to Jonathan’s own boney and gaunt face. Though he was less than ten years older than the boy, his body was worn and leathery. As Jonathan gazed at Eddie’s face, he admired the the gentle features of his face. Jon could imagine those blue eyes opening and looking up at him, that mischievous smirk slowly curling over his lips–

Jonathan caught himself in his thoughts, and quickly turned away. Tea, he decided. He needed to leave the room to make tea. He ambled slowly to the kitchen and started the kettle, doing everything in his power to avoid thoughts of those blue eyes and freckled cheeks.

But the thoughts kept creeping into his mind; the boy’s lean frame, his chest and his hips… The bright red of his hair contrasted with the blue of his eyes. The look he sometimes gave Jon, when they were close and alone. As Jonathan towered over him threateningly, needle in hand, that look of defiance… Of challenge… admiration… And something else. Jonathan could never understand that look. It was a look unfamiliar to him, one of… what he could only describe as desire. Why was the boy drawn to him?

Ever since that first night they had been playing games. And the boy was obsessed with him, leaving riddles, challenging him, and waiting eagerly for Jon to reciprocate in turn with threats. But the threats only encouraged him, the danger exciting him. And over time, Jonathan felt the threats had become hollow.

The bitter hatred he had harbored had at some point mellowed, and the moments of closeness had morphed. The tense air as they stood face to face had changed to some tacit agreement, a dirty secret neither of them dare utter aloud.

Jon was jolted from his thoughts by the shrill whistle of the kettle. He grabbed himself a mug, and after a split second of hesitation, grabbed one for Eddie. Dropping bags into each mug and filling them with hot water, Jon carried the steeping teas back into the bedroom.

As he entered the room, he was surprised to be met by two open, albeit groggy blue eyes. Eddie was sitting in the bed, awake but dazed. His eyes met Jon’s quietly.

“You’re awake,” Jon stated, placing one mug on the bedside table for Eddie. “I was starting to wonder if you were lost.” Eddie watched Jon silently as he lowered himself back into the old wooden rocking chair. The chair groaned as he settled into the seat.

“Lost?” Eddie repeated, his eyes keeping a steady gaze.

“Well, yes, in a way.” Jon sipped his tea and leaned back in his chair. “The dose of fear toxin you took could have easily scattered that intelligent brain of yours… I suspect the antidote I gave you helped prevent that.” There were a few moments of silence between them as Jon sipped his tea and Eddie tried to get his bearings.

“Why?” Eddie finally asked, his hand ghosting over the bandage on his neck.

“Why what?”

“Why am I here?”

“I brought you here after I found you high as a kite from the fear toxin-laced pain killers you stole from me. Which by the way, were not meant to be taken all at once or by you at all. "Jonathan replied bluntly. "I’d appreciate it if you kept your thieving hands away from my lab.”

“But why am I here?” Eddie looked hard at Jon, eyes narrowed accusingly.

“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” Jon replied simply.

“This past year… The game we’ve played.. you’ve wanted nothing more than to use that fear toxin on me. And last night you had that opportunity. I’ve seen how you treat your experiments. You watch them suffer and leave them to die. So why am I still alive?”

Jon sat quietly, leveling Eddie’s piercing glare. He didn’t know the answer. He didn’t know why he hadn’t let the young boy bleed out on the floor of his bedroom. He could have tortured him, watched as the fear overtook him and destroyed him from the inside out. But he didn’t. He didn’t know what to say.

“Drink your tea,” Jon finally replied. “It will help you rest.” Eddie eyed the tea, but made no move for it. “It isn’t drugged, if that’s your concern.”

“I’d rather not risk it.” Eddies eyes lifted from the tea back to Jon.

“Your choice.” There was a pause, and Jon leaned forward. “Who is it that you’re running from, hmm?”

“I’m not running from anyone.” Eddie’s response was sharp, and Jon could tell he was getting under his skin. Jon felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips as he felt that familiar tension building.

“You told quite a story while you were under the toxin’s persuasion–”

“You’re lying,” Eddie interjected. “I know you’re lying.”

“Am I?” Jon was in fact lying, but he enjoyed watching Eddie squirm, questioning what Jon knew.

“I’m leaving.” Eddie swung his legs over the edge of the bed and looked down at the loose shirt that hung over him. “…where are my clothes?”

“They’re soaked in blood. And I wouldn’t stand if I were you. You lost a lot of blood last night.”

Eddie glared at Jon defiantly and stood, steadying himself as his head spun. Jon watched amused as Eddie tried to keep his composure, heading for the door. Jon’s reflexes were quick as Eddie lost consciousness, an outstretched arm caught the boy by the waist before he hit the ground.

Jon stood and lifted Eddie easily, carrying him back to the bed. Eddie’s eyes opened and looked at Jon, unfocused.

“Fuck you,” the younger boy murmured.

“Rest.” Jonathan chided, tucking Eddie in. “We will talk more once you’ve recovered.”


	4. Chapter 4

Jonathan’s couch was long past due to be replaced. Laying uncomfortably on its worn cushions, Jon’s head and feet hanging off the stiff arms, the thought came to him again. It was the same thought that had taken to rudely interrupting his half-hearted attempts to sleep in the past few weeks.

His bed, of course, was occupied by the self-proclaimed “Prince of Puzzles” as Jon had helped him recover from his fear toxin mishap. While Jonathan found the boy to be insufferable at times, his company was not wholly unpleasant. At first, there was no trust. Eddie had refused to eat or drink anything Jon had offered him, until Jon finally refused to take no for an answer. After three days without food or drink, Jon had practically forced some bakery-bought bread down the younger man’s throat. And once Eddie had realized Jon wasn’t trying to drug or kill him with poisoned sustenance, he had slowly, cautiously lowered his guard.

Jon shifted uncomfortably on the couch, wondering in the back of his mind whether the resulting creaks came from the cushions or his old bones. It was amusing, he thought to himself. He really could dose one of Eddie’s drinks these days, or perhaps serve him a tainted stew, and the boy would happily take it. He could, but he wouldn’t. Jon had no desire to harm Eddie, not any more. He enjoyed the company, and Eddie was one of the few others who could hold a decent conversation. He was also as much of a fan of books and reading as Jon himself.

Jon had lent Eddie some books to read while he remained bedridden, his body slowly replenishing the lost blood, and Eddie had been thrilled. He had prattled on for an hour about one of his favorite authors, and Jon had just sat and listened. He had actually gone out and bought a copy of Eddie’s favorite book for him, much to the younger man’s delight. The last time Jon had seen it, the spine was already showing wear. Eddie must have reread it about three times now in his short stay, Jon was sure of it.

And so the time had passed quickly, Eddie buried in his books and Jonathan puttering around the hideout, keeping himself busy. Jon imagined it would only be a few more days before the boy began to talk of leaving, and he was prepared for it. But he would not broach the subject himself. The boy was fine, physically. Jonathan had tended to his wounds and they were healing nicely. Eddie was able to move around enough without getting light headed that he could easily take care of himself. Physically, he was fit as a fiddle. But mentally, Jonathan had noticed a number of concerning signs, worrisome tendencies and habits.

Despite Jon’s reassurances that it would heal and the scar would fade, Eddie was obsessed with the wound on his neck. Jon would find him staring in the mirror at the cut, tracing the healing tissue with his fingertips. He also noticed that Eddie would try to hide it with his clothes. And any time the boy caught a glimpse of his reflection, he would quickly double-take and stare at it, just for a moment. It would almost be amusing if it weren’t so pathetic, how wrapped up the boy was in how he looked. Jon had tried to talk to him about it, but Eddie had waved him off.

“I like making sure I look good. It’s called grooming yourself, and it’s important for keeping your looks in check… You should try it sometime.”

And Jon, too tired to argue, let it go. The boy put on a good facade, but as Jon took the time to really look at him, the physical scars were not the only ones Eddie bore. Jon had asked once more about what the boy had seen in his fear toxin hallucinations, but Eddie had skillfully avoided the question. Knowing Eddie’s previous occupation, he could only assume he had gotten caught up with an abusive pimp, sex trafficking, or perhaps had left a bad home and fell into prostitution afterwards. Perhaps a combination of all three– it was Gotham, after all. Curious as he was, Jon knew that prying would only raise Eddie’s guard. But he also knew that with enough patience and time, the answers would come. And so, Jon decided to observe from a distance.

Jon released a deep sigh as an aching in his neck again reminded him of the threadbare couch he was resting on. He sat up, rubbing his sore muscles tiredly, and resolved to make some tea. He stood stiffly and limped to the kitchen to put the kettle on. He crossed his arms and leaned against the counter, resting his chin against his chest and closing his weary eyes.

He had just started to doze as the creak of the bedroom door caught his attention. He lifted his head and opened his eyes to see Eddie peeking out from the room in borrowed boxers and a t-shirt, both of which were much too large for him.

“Jon?” He met the older man’s gaze and walked over to him.

“What are you doing up?” Jon asked, stifling a yawn.

“I dunno, I just can’t sleep, I guess. Why are you awake?”

Jonathan shrugged, “I guess I can’t sleep either.”

“Where are you from?” Eddie asked curiously, settling into a chair at the kitchen table. “You have the slightest southern accent.”

Jon looked at Eddie for a long time, trying to figure out how to respond. While he was generally quite accustomed to keeping the southern drawl in his voice at bay, it sometimes crept into his words when he was tired. He hated talking about his past, and knew he would need to tread carefully around Eddie. The boy was a walking encyclopedia, and used all the information he sponged up to his advantage, for better or worse. Jon couldn’t see anything good coming out of this conversation, so he opted to keep his response simple. “Georgia.” He replied coolly, turning to pull the kettle off the stove as it whistled. “Tea?”

“Sure,” Eddie replied thoughtfully. “Why’d you leave?”

“I didn’t like I there.”

“Why not?”

“I just didn’t.” Jon replied, meeting Eddie’s curious eyes with a half-lidded gaze.

“I’ve been in Gotham my whole life” Eddie mused. “I wouldn’t mind seeing Georgia one day. Or really anywhere else.” Jon poured their tea and handed Eddie his. “But I also understand wanting to distance yourself from bad memories. That’s why you try to hide your accent, right?" 

Jon kept his expression blank, refusing to deign the question with a response. 

"And yet you never left Gotham.” Jonathan finally responded as he closed his eyes and sipped his tea. 

“No,” Eddie agreed with a sigh. “I guess you’re right.”

Jon was beginning to see how the boy had started gaining power in the underworld. He had already weaseled his way into Penguin’s good graces, and it seemed he was intent on doing the same with the others.

Eddie’s charm and wit were tools he wielded well to get information. His charm was what put others at ease, and his wit helped persuade. Coupled with his intelligence, he could slowly whittle away at well-guarded secrets until there was a slip of the tongue. At the base of it all, he was a master at manipulation.

“You will never feel closure until you face what you’re running from.” Jonathan blew gently on his tea, “Whatever that may be.”

“I told you before, I’m not running from anyone or anything. I’m just… Living life.” Eddie picked at his tea bag distractedly. He was silent for a few minutes, then spoke softly. “I never said thank you.”

Jon raised his eyebrows. “For?”

“For saving me… And for patching me up. Query and Echo wouldn’t have been home for a few days.” He paused “…They would have found me dead.”

“Mmm,” Jon hummed, tapping his fingers on the cabinets beneath the countertop. He had forgotten about Eddie’s two sidekicks. “I suppose they’re looking for you.”

“Probably,” Eddie agreed. “Do you have a phone?”

“No.” Jonathan took another sip from his tea.

“Wait, you’re serious?” Eddie looked up at him with a small smirk. “You don’t own a phone?” Jonathan shrugged and Eddie rolled his eyes. “Jeez, well I know what I can get you as a thank you gift.”

“I don’t have anyone to call.” Jon replied simply. It wasn’t meant to sound as pathetic as it came out. Eddie’s smirk grew.

“Well I’ll give you my number, and the girls’ numbers, too. I’ll even get you something simple, like a flip phone or a Nokia so you can figure out how to use it.” Jon raised an eyebrow, and Eddie snickered. “What? You’re like 50 years old, right? I’ll get you one of those phones with big text so you can read it.” He giggled at the thought as he stole a glance at Jon to gauge his reaction.

“You do realize I’m only 8 years older than you, right? You said you were 20.”

It was Eddie’s turn to raise his eyebrows. “You look like you’re 35, at least.” Jon furrowed his brow. “I swear I’ve fucked men twice your age who look younger than you.”

“Disgusting.” Jon replied with a sneer. Eddie shrugged.

“You do what you have to to get by.”

“And yet here you are, stirring up trouble as– what is it you call yourself? The quizzler?”

“The Riddler. I write riddles, I don’t quiz people.”

“Whatever. The point still stands– from male escort to D-list criminal. You’ve certainly made a career out of breaking the law.”

“Do you remember the first night we met– the night you tried to kill me?” Eddie leaned back in his chair, cupping his hands around the warm mug.

“Yes.”

“That night you assumed I wouldn’t be able to get out, but I did. I’m good at solving puzzles, I always have been. And when I got home that night, I sat and I thought about what I wanted out of life. I want money, I want fame. And sleeping around with old money only gets you famous in hushed circles. I wanted more, and after I met you… It became more real.”

Jon picked up his tea and took a seat across from Eddie at the table. “Oh?”

“Yeah, I mean… You always hear about the rogues, about Batman. But you don’t really believe in it until you see it for yourself. And being in that room with you… It was the first time I felt alive in a long time.”

Jon scoffed. “That’s a bit cliche, don’t you think?”

“I suppose so, but it’s how I felt.” Eddie leaned in closer. “And I wanted to feel that way again.”

“So you went to a costume shop and bought a leprechaun outfit–”

“Its a custom-made suit!” Eddie protested. “And at least I’m not running around in burlap and ropes like some half-crazed bondage enthusiast.” Jon scowled. “Anyway, you inspired me… And the fact that you helped me when you could have left me for dead tells me that you have an interest in keeping me around. It’s an honor, really.”

Jon sighed and leaned back in his chair. Eddie was getting too close for Jon’s comfort. “Well the next time, you won’t be so lucky. Steal from me again and you won’t live to regret it.”

Eddie smirked. “You grumpy old man.”


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is smut. Ye have been warned.

Jonathan couldn’t believe this was happening. Not one year ago, he had almost killed the boy before him; two months ago, he had watched him bleed out on his bedroom floor and had made the snap decision to save him; just ten minutes ago, the younger man had piqued Jonathan’s interest with a tease of his past and his trauma– topics of great interest to him; and now… They were here. Jon sat on the bed as Eddie stood in front of him, slowly stripping off his clothes. All the games, the chasing, and the teasing… And this is where it had led them. The cat had caught the mouse, but Jon was no longer sure he ever was the cat. It was clear the younger man had had an agenda from the start. And if there was one thing Jonathan had learned over this past year, it was that Eddie always got what he wanted. Always.

But none of that truly mattered to Jonathan now, as Eddie stepped closer. The boy smirked at him as he slowly and teasingly unbottoned his undershirt, his gaudy green suit jacket already thrown to the floor and forgotten. He looked Jonathan in the eyes steadily and spoke softly.

“You sure you want this?” Jonathan knew Eddie just wanted to hear Jonathan admit it. And while he was usually stubborn about these things, Jon felt no urge to fight him. He nodded as Eddie slipped his arms out of his shirt and let it fall gently to the floor.

Jon felt a pang of excitement as his eyes looked hungrily over the younger man’s exposed abdomen. He had shockingly few scars, but the few he bore showed strikingly pink against his freckled skin. Jonathan had never really realized quite how freckled he really was was, he had always assumed they faded below the shoulders. But he now knew Eddie’s body was quite covered.

Jon was brought back from his thoughts as Eddie slid himself into Jonathan’s lap, straddling him as he began to work the buttons on his pants. Jonathan felt flushed as Eddie settled on him, growing painfully aware of how much he wanted this. How much he wanted him. He could feel his erection pressing against his pants as Eddie tossed his belt off, leaving his fly open to expose his own erection.

Jon let out a soft moan as Eddie gently grabbed his hips, grinding himself into his lap. He felt Eddie’s lips press gently against his neck before a gentle bite took its place. Goosebumps fled up his arms as he tentatively placed his hand on Eddie’s butt before squeezing it.

Eddie pulled away from Jon’s neck and looked at him mischievously.

“You’re certainly excited,” He teased. He gently pushed back from Jon and stood up to pull his pants off, then motioned to Jon.

“Take your shirt off.” Eddie instructed, standing unashamedly in his tented boxers. Jon paused as an anxiety simmered inside him. If he took his shirt off, Eddie would see the scars. While he would never admit to it, Jonathan found them deeply embarrassing. He wasn’t sure he was ready for Eddie’s curious eyes to see them, nor was he ready for the inevitable questions to follow.

“I’d prefer to leave my shirt on.” Jon said coolly. Eddie gave him a strange look, but shrugged it off.

“I’ve had stranger requests,” he admitted. “Let’s get your pants off, then. Keeping those on will make this session end pretty quickly, in case you were wondering”

Jon shot Eddie a dirty look, but inched to the edge of the bed, reaching down to unzip his pants. Eddie watched Jon pull his pants off, then climbed back into Jonathan’s lap.

“I already took care of all the prep work, so as soon as you take those boxers off, we can get started.” Jon looked at him, confused.

“Prep work?”

“I’ll explain later,” Eddie replied with a chuckle. “Now let’s get the rest off. I’ll go first.” Before Jon could react, Eddie had gently pushed Jon back so that he was laying on the bed. Eddie moved expertly as he slid his own boxers off, then moved to remove Jon’s. Once both men were naked, Eddie settled back into his lap.

He grabbed the bottle of lube that he had brought into the room and squirted some out on his hand. Jonathan couldn’t help but moan as Eddie clasped his lube-covered hand around his penis and slowly began to slide it up and down his length. Eddie watched Jon with a confident smile as his pale skin flushed with excitement.

“I’m going to let you go inside me, okay?” Eddie said softly. “Just let me set the pace, otherwise it can get uncomfortable for me.”

Jon nodded, but barely comprehended the words. His heart was beating rapidly in his chest and his breathing was ragged and harsh. He had never felt this way before, this excitement and pleasure was euphoric.

The warmth is what struck him as Eddie slowly and carefully lowered himself onto Jon. Eddie’s body felt hot and tight around him, and Jon couldn’t help but arch his back in pleasure. He gripped the bedsheets beneath him and a moan escaped him as Eddie began riding him slowly and methodically.

“Hey,” Eddie warned gently. “Not so rough.” Jon nodded and mumbled a dizzy apology, his head clouded with exhilaration. Eddie slid his hand under Jon’s shirt, then dragged his fingernails down his chest and smiled. “I’m glad it feels so good.”

Eddie watched contentedly as Jon writhed beneath him I’m pleasure. Jon could feel his gaze, but dared not meet it with his own. Part of him hated himself for wanting this, and he wouldn’t give Eddie the satisfaction of seeing it in his eyes. He grabbed Eddie’s backside again and pushed himself up, trying to go deeper.

Jon grasped Eddie’s hips tighter and sat up. They sat with their faces inches apart, close enough for Jon to hear Eddie’s panting. The younger man leaned into him, pressing his lips against his neck as he started moving faster. Jon started to climax and Eddie took notice. He allowed Jon to take more control, letting him guide his body up and down at a faster and rougher pace.

Eddie stretched contentedly and looked back at Jon.

“Fuck me harder, Jonathan.” Eddie hissed in his ear. Jon dug his fingernails into Eddie’s hips as he finished inside him. As soon as Jon relaxed, Eddie let himself finish with a soft cry. Eddie rested his head in the crook of Jonathan’s neck, and Jon could feel his fast heart beating against his chest.

After a few moments, Eddie pushed him onto his back again as he lifted himself off Jonathan’s member. He grabbed a towel and cleaned himself quietly as Jon looked at his shirt, which Eddie had ejaculated on. He sighed, realizing he would need to take his shirt off now.

“Well, professor, I’m going to go shower… Care to join me?” Jon nodded quietly and watched as Eddie stood up. He was always struck by how handsome he was, how fluid his movements were. He didn’t understand why Eddie had wanted this, had wanted him. But secretly– or perhaps now not so secretly– he had wanted it too.

“I’ll get the water started.” Eddie disappeared into the bathroom as Jon slowly unbuttoned his shirt. He knew it was stupid to let Eddie see the scars and give him another piece to his puzzle, but… For once in his life, Jon didn’t care. He pulled his shirt off and tossed it to the floor. He didn’t feel the same fear and sha,e as before, he wasn’t afraid to show Eddie such a closely guarded secret. For better or worse, he trusted Eddie. Maybe it was the dopamine talking.

Now naked, Jon rose from the bed and walked to the bathroom. As he reached the doorway, he caught Eddie staring at his own reflection, tracing the scar on his neck with his fingertips. Jon sighed.

“It will fade with time,” he assured Eddie. “As Iong as you stop bothering it.” Startled, Eddie quickly dropped his hand and looked at Jon. Jon could see his own scars immediately catch Eddie’s attention. He watched as Eddie’s eyes traced the beak and claw patterns along his shoulders and arms. His eyes then returned to Jon’s, burning with curiosity.

“I always wondered why you’d chosen the name Scarecrow,” he mused before turning to the shower. “The water is probably warm by now,” he said lazily. “Shall we?”

Jon approached Eddie and looked down at him silently. He reached his hand to Eddie’s face and stroked his cheek, leaning down to kiss him on the lips. Eddie returned the kiss, closing his eyes as he leaned into it. Eddie pulled away after only a few seconds.

“I want to get cleaned up, come on.” Eddie took his hand and pulled Jon into the hot shower. As they rinsed themselves off, Jon couldn’t help but let his mind wander. He had never felt so… at ease with someone before. For the first time ever in his life, he felt safe.


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> cw: child abuse, suicide mention

Jon glanced at the bedroom door, which hung slightly ajar. He thought about what he and Eddie had shared that night…an intimacy Jon had never known. And then he thought about the conversation they had had just before; how Eddie’s tongue, loosened by Jonathan’s favorite scotch, had made a slip.

Edward Nigma didn’t exist. Jonathan had figured as much, but it left him with a problem. Eddie– if that was his real name– was getting very close to Jon, closer than he was comfortable with. He had seen Jon’s scars, his most deeply guarded secret had been exposed to those curious and questioning blue eyes. And yet Jonathan had no leverage against the younger man. He knew only that the boy had been a trick on the streets for at least a year, and had served some of Gotham’s high society. But beyond that, Jon only had speculation.

Running away from home was a challenge… It isn’t easy when it’s a cop trying to drag you back home.

Jonathan had seen the flash of panic in Eddie’s eyes after he had said it, and had taken note of how quickly he had changed the subject afterwards. Jon knew Eddie had said something he hadn’t intended on revealing, and it was a thread Jon fully intended to unravel.

Eddie could have meant that his parents called the cops when he ran, but the way he had said it… It had sounded so personal. That coupled with the deep hatred Eddie seemed to harbor for the GCPD indicated to Jon that one of his parents was likely employed there.

Jonathan had also determined that Eddie suffered from some childhood trauma. Though he bore very few physical scars, Jon had easily recognized the signs of a severely neglected and abused child. The narcissism, the facade of confidence, and the strong need for control and order were just scratching the surface. And Jon speculated they all stemmed from low self esteem fostered from early childhood. It explained why the boy had pursued turning tricks on the street; beneath it all, he just wanted connection, to please and receive praise.

Eddie would do anything for that praise, as Jon had come to find, and that was precisely what made him dangerous. Somewhere along the line, Eddie, driven by that desire, had learned to manipulate. And over time, he had become quite masterful. It was exactly what twisted Jonathan’s stomach into a knot of nerves. If he was going to continue this… relationship with the younger man, Jon needed to see his history and pick apart his mind; he needed to understand him, starting with his very basic needs and desires. It was the only way Jon could protect himself from Eddie’s manipulative tactics.

Jon breathed deeply as he roused from his thoughts. A small nagging at the back of his mind reminded him that he had already fallen victim to the some of that manipulation. Deep down, he knew that night had meant nothing to Eddie. It was a means to an end. What end, Jon didn’t know.

Jonathan had always been a lonely man. He had come to accept and even embrace the isolation. But Eddie had somehow broken through that wall, wriggled his way I’m through the cracks. The thought of Eddie penetrating that shield only to abuse what was within deeply wounded Jon, much more than he cared to admit. But as Jon searched for an explanation other than the boy’s manipulative ways, he drew a blank. The boy was devilishly handsome, with a silver tongue to smoothe even the roughest edges. There was no good reason for him to have chosen Jon, a man far less attractive and charming.

That was precisely the reason Jon had dusted off his old laptop and was now looking through the GCPD missing persons posters. He wasn’t tech savvy by any means, so it was the best he could come up with. He adjusted his reading glasses as he scrolled through the posters. A lot of people were missing in Gotham, apparently.

Jonathan paused as a particular picture caught his eye. A picture of a much younger Eddie– likely in his early teens at most– stared back at him unhappily from the page. The picture was black and white, but Jonathan could make out the dark shadows of bruises on his face and a busted lip. Jon quickly clicked the image and was presented with the answer he was looking for.

Edward Nashton. Age 13. Sex: M. Suspected runaway. In case of sighting, call Officer James Nashton.

So Eddie is his real name, Jonathan thought to himself briefly. And his father was an officer. He opened another tab and searched on Eddie’s real name. Most links from the search led to missing persons pages, but one in particular caught Jon’s interest. A scanned and archived newspaper clipping.

MURDER SUICIDE ATTEMPT LEAVES MOTHER BRAIN DAMAGED, SON IN CRITICAL CONDITION

Jon read the title blankly. He couldn’t explain it, but the words made his skin crawl. His own childhood memories crept into his thoughts, he wasn’t a stranger to malevolent caretakers.

The sudden feeling of a blade against his neck made Jon jump, quickly bringing him back to the present.

“I don’t like people who snoop around,” Eddie hissed into Jon’s ear. He pressed the blade of his cane against Jon’s skin threateningly. “Give me one good reason to let you live.” Jonathan remained calm, keeping still as he kept his eyes steady ahead.

“You can threaten all you want, Edward, but you don’t strike me as a murderer.” Jon replied, reaching up to gently push the blade away. “What are you doing here?” After a brief hesitation, Eddie pulled the blade from Jon’s neck.

“Well I thought I was coming over to visit a friend,” Eddie said bitterly. “But friends don’t dredge up the past.” Jonathan placed the laptop on the coffee table in front of him and motioned for Eddie to sit.

“With all due respect, I like to have information about the people I associate with. I don’t like to be lied to.” Eddie scowled at the last line as he took a seat across from Jon.

“I haven’t lied to you– what makes you think I would?” He asked incredulously.

“Edward Nigma?” Jon asked simply, crossing his arms.

“Look, I’m trying to get away from my past. I know you are too,” Eddie’s eyes glanced at Jon’s shoulders. “I chose the name Nigma because it fit. Edward, E–”

“–Nigma. Enigma, I got that.” Jon had to restrain from rolling his eyes. “But I suspect there’s more to it than that. I think you’re embarrassed. Embarrassed that your mother abused you. Is your mother who you saw when you were under the fear toxin’s influence?”

“My mother wasn’t abusive– wait, is that why you’re digging all this up?” Eddie cried, his brow furrowed in anger. “Is that all you care about?!”

“I am merely asking–”

“No, you know what? Fuck you, Crane. I didn’t work so hard to get here just so you can psychoanalyze me and tell me how fucked up I am.” Eddie slammed his cane into the ground. “I can’t believe that after everything, you still just see me as some patient to be experimented on. Fuck you!”

“Edward, please calm down–”

“Stop calling me Edward!” Eddie retorted. “I’ve told you I go by Eddie.” Jon watched Eddie curiously. Eddie had a temper, and Jon was witnessing a full-on tantrum.

“Calm down, Eddie.” Jon corrected himself calmly. But though he was telling him to calm down, Jon couldn’t help but needle him further; watching Eddie react so viciously was something new. “Your missing poster had bruises on them– were those from your mother?”

Jon didn’t have time to react before Eddie tackled him. The younger man lunged at him and a searing hot pain shit through Jon’s face as Eddie punched him in the nose. Jon smiled as he wrestled with Eddie– the younger man was much weaker than him and easy to throw off.

Blood trickled down to Jon’s lips as he watched Eddie pick himself up off the floor. Jon could see the rage boiling inside of him as he glared daggers back.

“You can go to hell, Crane.” Eddie growled, his voice seething. He slowly got to his feet and grabbed his cane. “To think I thought this would ever become something more,” he muttered to himself bitterly. Jonathan felt a pang of guilt and remorse as he heard that, but was quick to remind himself that Eddie never stopped manipulating. This was no different.

Without another word, Eddie left, slamming the door behind him. Jon got himself off the floor and stood slowly, pausing as he noticed a phone on the couch where Eddie had been sitting– it must have fallen out of his pocket when he had launched himself at Jon. He reached over and picked the phone up, realizing there was a note tucked into the fold. He flipped the phone open and retrieved the note.

A fuddy-duddy phone for my favorite curmudgeon. Our numbers are programmed in, all you have to do is use the speed dial. I’m 1, Query is 2, and Echo is 3. Hope the font is big enough. ;)

\- E

Guilt crept over Jonathan again as he read the note. He put the phone on the table and went to the bathroom to check his nose. He was fairly certain Eddie had broken it, but that was furthest from his priorities at the moment. He grabbed a cloth to stem the bleeding and returned to his laptop.

His cursor hovered eagerly over the scroll bar as he sat ready to read through the news article. But another powerful wave of guilt crashed down on him, and he instead closed the lid. He would, in time, investigate this further. But as much as he hated to admit it, Eddie was his first priority.

He would need to make amends.


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> tw: drug abuse

Eddie laid back in his bed, pulling Query down with him into a long, deep kiss. After only a few moments, she sat up, straddling him. He reached up and played with her hair as she giggled down at him.

“You wanna fool around, Eddie? We’ve gotta celebrate such a good haul.” Eddie looked up at her with a sheepish smile.

“I appreciate the offer D, but I was actually thinking I might just take tonight to relax, if you know what I mean.” Query groaned and laid down on Eddie’s chest, pouting.

“Eddie, you’re gonna kill yourself with that stuff. You don’t wanna fry that big brain of yours, do you?” Eddie kissed her forehead gently.

“Don’t you worry about me, I’ve got everything under control.” He brushed her blonde hair back and smiled warmly at her. “Why don’t you and Nina go out and do something fun, hmm?” Query sighed and sat up, stretching.

“Yeah, maybe we’ll go out tonight, since you’re gonna be a buzz kill.” Eddie clicked his tongue and rolled his eyes.

“I’m allowed my vices,” he replied with a smirk.

“Mmmm, or something.” Query rolled off of Eddie and got up off the bed. “Just… Don’t take too many, Eddie.” She left the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Eddie was left alone with his thoughts. It had been a good night, they’d scored well and had slipped past even Batman. A plan well-executed. But, as always, the thoughts were starting to creep into his mind. They always did, after a heist. The what-ifs, the self criticism. He knew this path all too well. The doubts would soon devolve to thoughts of the past and what he had escaped from, the self-hatred and the constant anxiety of never being enough. No matter what he did, it was never enough.

And that’s why Eddie always took the night off after a heist. He knew that stiflijf the thoughts was the only option, suffocating them in a chemical cocktail brewed for numbness. Something to ease the pain. He sat up and reached over to open the bedside drawer, pulling out the familiar bottle of pills. He poured a few out into his hand before popping then, then threw the bottle back into the drawer and laid back on the bed. He closed his eyes, waiting for the drugs to take effect.

His thoughts were never quiet; it was a gift and a curse. While he could focus those thoughts to scheme, invent, and create, they would haunt him as he lay trying to sleep. Never quiet, always crowding his mind, drowning him as he desperately fought for peace. But the pills gave him reprieve, a brief relief from those running thoughts, and let him rest.

Eddie turned on his side and stared at the blank wall. Jonathan Crane was one of the thoughts that kept invading his thoughts lately. He couldn’t stop thinking of him, obsessing over the last interaction– their fight.

Jon had started digging, and that always made Eddie nervous. And then Jon’s needling, the psychoanalysis as if Eddie was nothing more than something to probe, an object to study. It had wounded him deeply, though Eddie’s pride would never let him admit it. He just wanted to get Jonathan’s attention… His admiration and respect. And he slowly felt that slip through his fingers as Jon whittled him down to nothing more than a small, beaten child.

Eddie rubbed his head as the haziness began to descend on his body like a fog. He felt his limbs heavy on the bed before he felt nothing at all. The stress slowly melted away as the thoughts dissipated. Those constant invasive thoughts. The peace was welcomed like an old friend.

—-

The return to reality was always the hardest part. Eddie’s body was lead as he woke, slowly regaining his senses. He tried to shift and felt resistance– was he restrained? Panic set in and his heart beat rapidly as he tried to make sense of the world around him. His heart was gripped with fear as his mind fumbled to understand. He wasn’t… He couldn’t be back here. It wasn’t just a hopeful dream, he knew he had escaped.

His blurred vision was taking too long to return. As the fear and panic overwhelmed him, he bolted upright in an attempt to break the restraints.

Eddie’s sudden outburst was greeted by two surprised and disgruntled complaints. Eddie’s body shook with adrenaline as he felt a hand gently caress his leg.

“Another nightmare, Eddie?” Echo’s voice was groggy. A wave of embarrassment and shame washed over him as he realized what had happened. His restraints were nothing more then Query and Echo, sleeping in bed with him, the weight of their bodies limiting his movement.

“Y-yeah…” Eddie replied quietly, trying to steady his trembling. He felt Echo shift next to him, sitting up to rub his back.

“You’re shaking,” she said simply. She wrapped her arms around him, smiling down at Query. “She sleeps like a damn rock.”. Eddie barely heard her, as he found himself staring at his shaking hands. A sharp pain shot through his neck, and he instinctively slapped a hand to his scar.

“Eddie, you’re not doing yourself any favors by taking those stupid pain killers.” Echo pulled away from him and spoke sternly. “You are going to kill yourself–”

“–‘with those things.’ Do you and D ever stop conspiring against me behind my back?” Eddie shot her a dirty look, he had to bury the feelings deep. He couldn’t show her just how shaken he had been. He couldn’t show weakness, not even to Query and Echo.

“Eddie, we’re just worried about you.” Echo replied quietly. “I just really wish you’d talk to someone,” she said finally. “I know you think you’re fine, but I think the strawman is right.”

“I’ll remind you that Crane has been barred from practicing psychiatry, and for good reason. I’m fine, Nina, honest.” She sighed and laid back down, seemingly done with the conversation.

Eddie sat quietly in the dark bedroom. The silence engulfed him as the thoughts slowly started to build again in his head. He sat for a while, watching Query and Echo rest next to him. Through the crowd of thoughts, Eddie tried to reassure himself that the lies he spoke were true. He was fine. He wanted to believe it–he had to.


	8. Chapter 8

Jonathan hated nothing more than apologies. There was something quite fake about them– he was never one to regret something he said. No, Jonathan’s apologies were never sincere. But he recognized that it was a social nicety when bounds were overstepped, and would go through the motions and play his part to keep a relationship when needed.

This apology was no different. Jon had no regrets in needling Eddie, reopening those old wounds to peek inside that brilliant yet damaged mind of his. But Jon’s nose was a swollen and sore reminder that he owed Eddie a few insincere words. The boy hadn’t visited in almost a week, and this relationship was too intriguing to Jon for him to let it wither and die. And so, here Jon was, standing at the doorstep of Eddie’s hideout, preparing to swallow his pride for the sole purpose of fulfilling that societal nicety and restore the peace.

He knocked on the door and waited for several seconds. He was greeted by silence, and wondered for a moment if Eddie was out. The door was jerked open and a frazzled blonde stood in the frame, lazily clasping a robe closed to cover her breasts.

“Hi, can I help you?” She asked, mildly irritated.

“Uh… Is Edward home?” Jon asked, glancing into the house behind her.

“Who’s askin’?” The woman looked Jon up and down with a scowl. “Eddie doesn’t like talking to nobodies.”

“You can tell him Jonathan is here,” Jon said with a frown. He watched as a grin spread across the girl’s lips.

“Nah, you’re not Scarecrow, are you?” He gave a slight nod and she laughed, “You?! Damn, Eddie’s got some weird taste in men. I’ve never seen ya without the getup.” She paused, “Y'know I’m not really sure Eddie wants to see you. You really pissed him off.”

“That’s why I’m here–” Jon was interrupted as a second woman came up behind the first.

“Query, who is it?” Her eyes landed on Jon and narrowed, “I recognize you…”

“It’s Scarecrow, Echo.” Query grinned and raised her eyebrows mischievously. Echo turned to look at Jon.

“Whatever you did, he’s still butthurt about it, so I’d let him cool off a bit before you come around again,” she advised. She kept a cool, calm air about her as she spoke. Jon already liked her better than the blonde.

“Look, I’m here to apologize, please just let him know I’m here?” Echo shrugged nonchalantly.

“I’d really suggest waiting a bit,” Echo motioned to Query. “He’s in the middle of something.” Jon tried not to grimace. “If you really want to wait, I’ll make you some tea.” Jon considered his options. The last thing he wanted was to sit and wait in the living room while Eddie and Query fooled around in the next room over.

“Just… Let him know I came by, I guess.” Jon finally replied, defeated.

“Sure,” she shrugged and shut the door as Jon turned to leave. He decided to take a walk through the neighborhood, feeling less than satisfied. As he thought about Eddie and Query, he felt a twinge of jealousy, but quickly buried it. He wouldn’t get caught up in the boy’s games.

—–

Query laid next to Eddie, her head resting on his gently rising and falling chest. He played with her hair absent-mindedly as they laid together, letting their bodies rest. Eddie’s mind was worlds away now that his needs had been met. As he lay there, his mind replayed his last interaction with Jon over and over again. Eddie had spent a lot of time thinking about Jon lately, and about his childhood. He was normally quite adept at compartmentalizing, but the headline on Jon’s computer had torn that compartment open, and the memories oozed into his thoughts like fresh blood. He remembered that day all too well. The day his own mother had tried to kill him. He remembered every little detail, despite desperate attempts to block it out.

Eddie instinctively gave Query a small squeeze. Feeling her under his arm brought him back to the present, and reassured him that he had, in fact, survived. He kissed her gently on the forehead, and she looked up at him with a smile.

“You’re being extra affectionate today,” she teased, sliding her fingers down his chest. “Everything okay?” He returned her smile with one of his own.

“I’m fine,” He assured her, stealing a glance at the cabinet. He wondered to himself how many pills he had left.

“Hey,” Query reached her hand up to touch his cheek. “Let’s try one night without those, hmm?” Eddie gently placed his hand in hers reassuringly, but said nothing. He would sneak them later.

“So what are you gonna do about the strawman, Eddie?”

“I don’t know, D.” She sat up and stretched lazily.

“He said he was here to apologize,” Query tilted her head. “What’d he do?”

“Nothing,” Eddie replied distractedly. “Don’t worry about it.” He flashed her a smile and watched as she stood to shower. He let his eyes wander over her naked body.

“I don’t know what you see in him, Eddie. He’s just some creep who likes to terrorize people.” Eddie didn’t quite know how to reply, so he didn’t. He could hear the hint of jealousy in her words, but he chose to ignore it. No one owned him, and he wouldn’t let anyone think otherwise.

As Query left to shower, Eddie laid back down and stared up at the ceiling. He was still angry at Jon and wasn’t sure he was ready to forgive him. It would take more than an apology to win back his favor. Jon had unearthed a very old but raw wound. Eddie fought against his racing thoughts as they began to spiral. Hie felt his heart beat rapidly as memories flooded back to him from that day. The nausea, the pain…. The humiliation. His own mother…

Eddie’s hands were shaking as he fumbled to open the drawer of the bedside table. With trembling hands, he withdrew the pill bottle and desperately ripped off the lid. He didn’t bother to keep track of the number he was taking as he tossed several into his mouth. He could feel himself unraveling; he had to stop the thoughts now before they got worse. He waited, running his fingers through his hair nervously as he waited for them to take effect.

Eddie welcomed the familiar, gentle cloak of numbness. He laid back on the bed and stared as he felt his heart slow, his muscles relax. His thoughts became distant echoes as time itself began to crawl.

A very distant voice tugged at his fading consciousness. Too many, the voice warned feebly as he was swallowed by nothingness.

—-

As always, waking up was the hardest part. But this time, it was actually painful. Eddie felt a firm hand rest on his back, helping him sit up. He was disoriented and confused as his vision slowly returned. Sitting around him were a teary-eyed Query, a pissed off looking Echo, and a deadpan Jon who was holding him up.

“Relax, just breathe.” Jonathan said plainly. Eddie felt a wave of nausea wash over him and he feebly turned away to wretch. He heard Jon assure the girls it was normal. “I’m not surprised at all,” he added as Eddie emptied the contents of his stomach into the floor.

Somehow he had ended up on the floor, and he couldn’t quite grasp what was happening. Jon’s voice cut sharply through his confusion as he struggled to get his bearings.

“Edward Nigma, you are a fool.” Jon roughly grabbed his chin and forced Eddie to look at him. He shined a bright light into Eddie’s eye, and Eddie winced. “Pupils are dilated, vomiting,” Jon trailed off as he lifted Eddie’s arm, pressing his fingers to his wrist. “Rapid heartbeat, and shaking. The Naloxone is working as intended”

“And what about when it wears off?” Echo asked, keeping her voice low. “He could overdose again.” Jon turned to look at her.

“Yes, he could. I suppose you don’t have another dose or two of it?” Echo shook her head and Jon sighed. “I have some back at my lab, I can bring it back here. We have about 45 minutes before this wears off.”

Eddie felt another wave of nausea wash over him, and he again vomited on the floor in front of him, splashing the three surrounding him. Query and Echo both made noises of disgust as Jon sneered.

“Clean him up and help him get to bed. I will bring the other doses over and stay here to keep an eye on him.” Jon stood, looking coldly down at Eddie. He had expected more of the boy, and made clear his disappointment.

——

After a bath and a change of clothes, Eddie was put to bed by Echo as Query quietly helped. Echo had left Query to tend to him. She remained by the bed, stroking his hair and lifting the bucket each time the nausea overcame him. He had developed a fever and was weak, his body wracked by the sudden withdrawal. They spent their time together in silence, Eddie resting uncomfortably and Query lost in her own thoughts.

A light knock on the bedroom door brought Query to the present, and she watched as Jon stepped in with a small bag of supplies.

“I will watch him,” Jon said quietly. Query nodded and left the room, stealing a quick glance at Eddie before closing the door behind her. Jon took the seat beside the bed, scowling at the bucket of vomit at his feet.

“You didn’t strike me as the suicidal type,” Jon started as he rummaged through his bag. “Though I suppose I am not surprised, given how low your self esteem and self worth are.” He retrieved a small syringe from his bag and net Eddie’s exhausted gaze sharply. “How are you feeling?”

“Like death…” Eddie replied feebly. Jon lowered the syringe.

“Then we will wait before we give you another dose. If you start feeling like you’re getting high again, you need to tell me.” He placed the syringe on the table and leaned back in his chair to watch him. “This is the second time you’ve tried to kill yourself since we’ve met. Speaking as a psychiatrist, that’s a lot of red flags.”

“I wasn’t trying to kill myself,” Eddie muttered back, too tired to argue.

“No? Then what exactly were you trying to accomplish? Do you know how many people die of opioid overdoses in this country alone?” Eddie stewed quietly, Jonathan’s bedside manner was lacking, to say the least.

“Well, Edward?”

“Riddle me this–” Eddie started. Jon quickly interjected.

“I’m asking the cowering Edward Nashton, not the Riddler persona who is trying so desperately to hide him from the world.” Jon could see Eddie bristle as he got defensive. “I don’t need snark or defensiveness, Edward. I need you to for once drop the charades and tell me directly what’s going on.”

There was a long silence and Jon could see the defiance burning in the younger man’s eyes. After several minutes, Jon let out a sigh.

“If you’re going to be this way, I’m going to leave.” Jonathan stood, leaning down the to pick up his bag of supplies. “Query and Echo can administer another dose if needed–”

“I take it because it feels good.” Eddie finally said quietly. “ I didn’t mean to take that much.” Jon paused and lowered himself back into the chair, gently laying the supply bag on the ground in front of him.

“Why opioids?” He asked, his voice softer. He was switching modes, revisiting a role he had long ago abandoned. He watched Eddie closely for signs of discomfort as he spoke. Eddie cast his gaze away, down at the bed.

“It gives the best high." Eddie shrugged, but Jon noted that Eddie would not meet his gaze. He sighed again, knowing well that the younger man wouldn’t let him in.

"What about the high do you like?” Eddie groaned and rolled his eyes.

“What, is this 20 questions?”

“Edward…”

“Okay, fine, fine. It just helps me zone out. Stops the constant thoughts.” Jon paused for a moment before pushing further.

“These intrusive thoughts… what are they about?” Eddie lifted his eyes to meet Jon’s gaze, and no words needed to be exchanged. Jon knew exactly what those thoughts were about, he’d read all about it.

“You need healthier coping mechanisms,” Jon said finally. “Starting immediately, I’m going to help you get off of the drugs. We’ll put you on marijuana instead." Eddie scoffed, indignant.

“You’re not my doctor, Jonathan.” Jon hummed in thought.

“No, but you certainly need one.”


End file.
